


Ascent to Insanity

by FinVander



Category: Short Story - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27625228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FinVander/pseuds/FinVander
Summary: A man follows his dream of solo climbing Mt.Everest. Read his ascent to insanity through journal entries as he climbs towards his destiny.





	Ascent to Insanity

I was standing in the gift shop the morning of the climb when it hit me for the first time. The reality of the situation I was putting myself in. The colorful clothing and nic nacs that read “Mt. Everest,” surrounding me seemed to downplay the severity of the plight. Over three hundred people have died doing this, their bodies left to freeze and decay all over the mountain. I heard it was too dangerous to even recover the bodies, and yet I was still going to climb it. By myself at that. My family, especially my wife, were highly opposed to the idea. “You don’t know what you are getting yourself into. It’s going to be so much harder than you think.” they would say every time it was brought up. But that only made me want to do it more. They were oblivious to the fact that they were throwing wood on the fire. A fire that had been burning in me since I was a child. 

I absentmindedly placed a small journal, and a pack of smokes on the check out register, remembering that I had quit smoking years ago. “Is that all for you young fella?” The hearty old man asked. I nodded my head, obviously disquieted about the journey ahead. Noticing this, the man made small talk. “So, what side of the mountain are you heading up?’  
“South side,” I murmured, not in the mood for conversation.  
“Who is your instructor?”  
“I’m going alone, no oxygen. Just roping my way up.”  
Now it was his turn to nod his head, realizing why I was more anxious than most climbers. Most climbers took the standard route, with instructors, and oxygen tanks. The only way that I was allowed to go alone was to go up the south side of the mountain, independent from oxygen tanks, and with the help of ropes. Although it’s highly discouraged by expeditioners and other climbers alike, it was allowed. 

Grabbing the pack of cigarettes and shoving them in my jacket pocket, I quickly walked out of the store. Fellow climbers passed by, sharing knowing looks. Some looked excited, some nervous, some calm and content. You could see the snowy peaks at the top of the mountain from here, some covered by clouds. Like muscle memory, I pulled a cigarette out of the new pack, lit it up, and began puffing out smoke into the chilly air. The thought replayed in my mind, that this was likely going to be the hardest two months of my life. 

Day 1 (9:45pm)  
One thing I knew I wanted to do during this climb was to try to journal at least a couple times a week. I never want to forget this month to the top for as long as I live. I started my climb early this morning, and after a long day, I found a small cliff to settle down for the night. I survived off of energy bars today, but I know that I will have to eat real food soon. The thought of doing so makes me nervous, the last thing I want to do is run out of food when I am at the top. To be honest, I’m exhausted. This is the most tired I’ve ever been, and I know that this is just the beginning. Even so, I know it will be a rough night's sleep. They say that you should change out of sweaty clothes or the sweat will freeze to your body at night, but I don't think I can bring myself to get undressed in these temperatures. I guess my only option is to sleep in these clothes. 

Day 3 (11:36pm)  
Yesterday was really rough, I didn't have a chance to write anything down, so I am doing it right now. I didn't sleep last night, there was no place to set up camp that I could find. I've been climbing nonstop for two days, and the cold is starting to get to me. I was well aware of the risk of losing fingers, but it's still a shock to realize that you can no longer feel half of the fingers on your left hand. I can only hope that these are the worst injuries that I will get, but I know that is probably wishful thinking. 

Day 4 (7:18am)  
I finally got some good sleep last night. The cold is not really something you ever get used to, but it's bearable for now. I know it will get worse as I climb higher. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to journal next. Today is the start of the really steep part, so I’m eating a really big breakfast. I don't know when I will find the next place to hunker down. It could be days before I get to lie down again, so I’m enjoying it while I can.

Day 8 (6:51pm)  
I finally found a place to sleep. I’m stopping early today, I don’t care that it’s not even seven. I can't really feel my feet anymore, it’s like they are moving on their own. Just climbing, up and up and up. At first they hurt, but now I just can't feel them at all. I still have no feeling on half of the fingers on my left hand, my other fingers are okay for now. After not sleeping for four days, I thought I would be more tired than this, but I am surprisingly energetic. I don't want to sleep, I just want to lie down and think. 

Day 10 (2:47pm)  
I just found a dead body. I thought maybe she was still alive, but then I turned her over, she was just frozen. I knew that there were dead bodies on the mountain, but I never thought I would encounter one, let alone one that looks as recent as she does. The way the wind was blowing made it look like she was still breathing, but I know she wasn't. I want so badly to just turn back. But I’m just going to keep on climbing.

Day 13 (10:12pm)  
I found some other climbers on the mountain today. They were alive, not dead. I tried to talk to them, but they just kept trying to get away from me. I don't know why. I'm not quite sure why this part of the mountain is warmer than the rest, but nobody else seemed to notice. I took my top layers off, leaving me in a long sleeve compression shirt and a small jacket. I think maybe that's just how it is. So I'm going to leave the rest of my layers behind and put them back on on the way down. I'm sure they will still be there.

Day 19 (7:24pm)  
My parents were right. Everybody was right. I can't do this anymore. I can't take it. I lost my food pack somewhere awhile back. I looked for an entire day, and I still couldn't find it. All I have left is the food on me. I keep getting hotter and hotter, but I know that if I keep undressing that I will die. At least I can't feel most of my arms and legs anymore. I won't make it much longer like this. I hope I run into another human soon.

Day 22 (11:52am)  
I just found another climber, a dead one. But this time, he's still warm. I found a little bit of food in his backpack, so I took it. He won't be needing it anyway. Something happened that freaked me out. Even though I know he is not alive anymore, I swear that I can still hear him talking. He told me to jump, but I will not resort to that no matter what. There is still hope.

Day 27 (4:34pm)  
I made it to the top of the mountain, and saw all the flags that people left here. I am glad that I made it to the top before I die, because I know that I will not make it down.

The lack of feeling in my hand caused me to stop writing. I took a break to shake my hands and rub them together in an effort to gain back some feeling, but it was futile. In a fit of rage, I slung my pack off my back, and hurled it off the side of the mountain. I watched as it tumbled down the cliffs, gaining traction until it was out of sight. The only thing that I have left now is the journal. I took one last look at it before carefully placing it among the flags that littered the mountain top. Naively, I hoped that maybe one day somebody would find it, and tell my story.


End file.
